


right angles

by sneakiest



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (fake!!!) dog emergency, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Awkwardness, Bad first impression, Doyoung's quarter-life crisis, Flirting, Gongmyung is still an actor, M/M, Many Tags To Be Added, Veterinary care, salaryman!Doyoung, the dog is FINE I promise, themes of mistaken identity and miscommunication, vet tech!Taeyong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29282883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakiest/pseuds/sneakiest
Summary: Years after his singing career crashed and burned, Doyoung's got his chance to live in the heart of Seoul. If he can manage to get a job and stop running into the world's most unprofessional vet tech, he'll finally be able to make a name for himself.--Or: Doyoung mistakes a sapling for the scum of the earth.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 48
Kudos: 150





	right angles

**Author's Note:**

> While this first chapter involves a pet emergency, I want to make it very clear that **THE DOG IS FINE**. Nothing terrible or permanent happens to the dog!!!!! I would not do that to my readers, myself, or even a fictional dog, lolol. But please note there's a Temporary Emergency in this first chapter, and Taeyong does work in a vet clinic, so that could come up in the future. I'll tag for anything that comes up. 
> 
> This fic will have some miscommunication and, uh, conflict? acrimony? based on that, so if that's a theme you like to avoid in fic, you should know. (I hate miscommunication as a trope, so hopefully my take on it will be bearable and subverted, a little!) This fic will also have some rough sex and mild BDSM eventually. I imagine for some folks that's a warning and for others it's an invitation. 😎
> 
> I've been sitting on this AU for ages and ages. DoTae is one of my favorite pairings, and I feel like I've been warming up just to be able to finally write it. I hope everyone likes it!!!!
> 
> Thank you so, so much to: snarla, who saw this idea in its earliest iteration; kita, for tons of info about dogs/vets; Anne, for, uh, beta-ing, sounding board-ing, and helping me workshop the summary (the last line is entirely theirs!); and to my favorite tree for giving me yet more info about how vets work. <3

As he sat in a veterinary clinic waiting room at nearly one in the morning, sweating despite the way his rain-damp clothes were clammy against his skin, Dongyoung was acutely aware of two things: One, he was a terrible excuse for a dog guardian. Two, quitting his job and moving in with Gong Myung was a mistake.

He'd ripped up his orderly life and moved to Cheongdam three weeks ago. His attempts at upward momentum had only led to sitting in this waiting room, berating himself for ever thinking he belonged in a glittering high-rise apartment, for thinking he could find a job in the Gangnam District, and most of all for thinking he was capable of watching over a puppy for a few months.

One minute he'd been finishing late-night snack prep in Gong Myung's underused and ridiculously well-appointed kitchen, and the next he'd walked into the living room to find the dark-chocolate bar on the coffee table missing and Snow worryingly lethargic on the carpet by the suede couch. His blood pressure had skyrocketed until he could feel it in his ears.

Gong Myung's stipulations for letting Dongyoung live with him were few: pay half the utilities, keep the place clean between housekeeper visits, and make sure his new puppy was well taken care of while he was away filming on location in Jeju.

He had one real responsibility, and he'd failed at it.

 _You need a change_ , his brother had insisted months ago, when Dongyoung complained of how small his life had become without him noticing, how boring his job and bland his day-to-day existence. How Busan, at the start of university a brand-new adventure and filled with opportunity at every corner, had turned into the same five locations in Nampo: his apartment, his work, his favorite cafe, his favorite market, and the park where he liked to walk. _I've got room, and I'm never home most of the time anyway. Hang out in the city, find a new job, keep me company—it'll be good for you._

To Dongyoung, in his embarrassingly half-furnished apartment after his ex had taken her share months earlier, Gong Myung's offer had seemed like a real chance at something he'd always wanted and long since relegated to a dream, even if it wasn't a lucrative singing contract.

But so far all Seoul had brought him was this waiting room, where he sat stiff with terror and guilt.

"Mr. Kim, um, do you have a moment?"

The startle out of his misery was so sudden that he almost forgot where he was. But then everything snapped into focus—the slight flickering of a nearby ceiling light he'd been trying to ignore, the waiting room that smelled strongly of cleaner, the cold rainwater still damp on his clothes, and this man, lurking awkwardly in front of the door marked for staff, gawky and sallow under the light but a striking collection of angles despite it all.

From this small distance, Dongyoung could read his nametag, hanging from a Spongebob lanyard that clashed with his garish Tokidoki scrubs—Lee Taeyong. And underneath it, his position. Veterinary technician.

Before Dongyoung could open his mouth and start asking any of his banked hundred questions about the puppy and her treatment, Lee Taeyong blinked his owlish eyes at him from behind frames that didn't flatter his strangely beautiful face and said, "Oh, _Digimon_! I like it. Your shirt. And the show."

Dongyoung stared down at his sleep shirt—an old one from the tail-end of high school, a little faded but very comfortable and with a prominent illustration of Gabumon—and then lifted his head to stare at Taeyong next.

 _Digimon_. Right now?

"I mean, ah, sorry, Mr. Kim," Taeyong said, realization breaking over his expression. "I just—"

"How," Dongyoung said, closing his flimsy cardigan over the shirt pointedly, "is the dog?"

"She's okay," Taeyong hurried to assure him, sticking out his hands as if to physically ward him off. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Uh, we flushed her all out and… um, well, there wasn't any chocolate?" He looked almost apologetic. "So you may have been… mistaken about her ingesting it. Which is good news, obviously!"

New emotions overtook the worry and guilt: incredible relief, so intense he nearly slumped in the stiff chair, and then on its heels a sharp regret because he'd assumed the worst and dragged Snow here in the middle of the night over some chocolate he'd likely just misplaced. And texted his brother about it in an absolute panic, which had likely caused a delay in filming as Gong Myung waited for crucial updates.

"Yes, that's… good," he managed. Taeyong's eyes on him made him uneasy. A witness to his embarrassment was never welcome, but something about it being _this_ pretty twink with no sense of professionalism rubbed him raw. "Far better than the alternative, at least. Can I see her?"

"Um, not— She's still being treated; we're rehydrating her. Sorry, but we still need a few minutes with her before you can take her home." He chewed on the edge of his lower lip. "That's what I wanted to tell you. And I wanted to see, um, if you needed anything?" Taeyong mouthed something like he was reviewing a mental list, eyes darting to the side. "Oh, and to ask you to confirm the method of payment."

"The payment," Dongyoung repeated. He'd barely processed the paradigm shift of not having risked the life of his brother's dog with his own carelessness, and now they were onto settling the bill? "Surely that can wait until after her treatment is done?"

"No, no, of course. I just thought… it's late, you'll want to get her home in a hurry. I didn't want to make you wait once she's ready to go."

There was a shred of wisdom in that, enough to make him reach for his wallet and the debit card within it. Gong Myung had left him an emergency credit card for situations like this, but in Dongyoung's panic, tearing the apartment apart until he found a blanket for Snow and her carrier, barely remembering his keys, shoes, and phone, never mind a jacket, well. The credit card was still on top of the fridge.

This was his mistake all the way around, anyway. It seemed only right that Dongyoung pay for it.

Lee Taeyong crossed the waiting room to retrieve the card. "Thank you. It will be a few minutes; the system's always super slow at night. Do you want any water or anything?"

"What's 'anything?'" Dongyoung asked. There was a sour taste in his mouth, and his cold, uncomfortable body started making more complaints about being cold and uncomfortable, now that he wasn't occupied with panic.

"We have some sodas, and I have some juice drinks." Taeyong slid behind the receptionist's desk and leaned toward the monitor there, clattering at some keys. Dongyoung caught him glancing up a few times, in Dongyoung's direction.

"Water, I guess. Thanks."

"Sure, let me just—"

Taeyong frowned at the monitor, contorting his angles into something new, a harsher look on his annoyingly noble face. Then he went back through the staff door, Dongyoung's card left unattended. Lucky for him there was no one else in the office at this hour. When he came back, not even a minute later, hardly long enough for Dongyoung to pull out his phone and send a text message explaining things to Gong Myung, he was holding a water bottle, a juice box, and a packet of shrimp chips.

"Here," he said, and handed Dongyoung his bounty—including the shrimp chips.

Dongyoung took it. Grudgingly, he could understand how the office hadn't cheated to get its 4.9-star rating and plethora of reviews praising how clean and new it was, how friendly and polite the staff, how cutting-edge the equipment. How professional. If being _friendly_ and _professional_ included making comments on Dongyoung's sartorial choices rather than giving him urgent updates on an animal's condition, that was.

Maybe bougie Cheongdam residents were charmed by Taeyong's carved-from-marble face, his cheerful scrubs shouting _I'm harmless!_ , and his docile mumble. Dongyoung wasn't quite so easily taken in by a pretty face. Maybe at sixteen he would have been, but not now, at twenty-six.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Mr. Kim," Taeyong said, back to clattering. "I just need you to confirm your contact and billing information."

When Dongyoung gave his phone number, Taeyong's head tilted at the screen. "You said she was seen at our clinic before?"

Dongyoung had rambled something to that effect on his way out the door and into the cab, when he called to confirm they were open. "Yes." He gave up on sitting, not wanting to continue to have this conversation from a distance, and stood by the receptionist's desk. "She's not mine. I'm taking care of her while her owner is out of town for work." It was a more dignified way of saying he'd moved in with his wealthy brother, yet even still more than a stranger deserved to know.

Under this lighting, and with Taeyong closer to him, he could see old acne scars. It made him less unsettlingly attractive to notice.

"Oh, um, can I have the owner's name? I can look up her records."

"Kim Donghyun," Dongyoung said—a rare utterance these days, since his brother had adopted his stage name in his private life too. Since he had it to hand, Dongyoung provided his brother's phone number.

In the meantime, Gong Myung had sent three stickers expressing his relief that Dongyoung _hadn't_ poisoned his dog. Dongyoung dreaded when the shock of good news wore off and Gong Myung started mocking him instead.

"I found her! Oh, she's younger than she looks." A little smile crept over Taeyong's face. "Just about four months old."

"He took her home at twelve weeks," Dongyoung said to fill the silence, his graces having started to come back to him when the emergency disappeared. He sent Gong Myung a sticker of his own and an apology for fucking up his night. "She's growing every day, it seems like."

"They do that, at this age."

Taeyong finished processing his information, gave him his receipt and returned his card, then turned thoughtful eyes on him. His big eyes were what Dongyoung had noticed after his jaw. "Um, also, I noticed she's actually almost due for her next round of shots. Did Mr. Kim tell you there's an appointment coming up?"

No, Gong Myung definitely hadn't. He'd left Dongyoung with a pile of paperwork, a sheet of care and feeding instructions, and a lot of puppy pads. Somewhere in there might have been an indication that Snow had a vet appointment, but more than likely it was on Gong Myung's overstuffed calendar app.

"Can't you do it now? Since we're already here?"

"We space them out pretty specifically," Taeyong said dubiously. "I can ask the doctor—"

"You know what, it's fine, just let me know when it is and we'll come back for it."

"Yeah, of course. You probably want to go straight home after all this. I'll make you a card for the appointment and go check on her." Taeyong nodded decisively to himself, scribbled on an appointment card, including an unnecessary smiley face, and passed it over.

When he disappeared behind the staff door, Dongyoung took the moment of respite to drop all the tension in his back and shoulders and to let the receptionist desk support him. He wanted to laugh; he wanted to cry, a little. All of this because of Dongyoung forgetting where he left a chocolate bar.

Dongyoung was a practical person if nothing else; if Snow _had_ eaten an entire chocolate bar, coming to this vet would have saved her life. Dragging his feet making sure he hadn't left it somewhere else might have cost him time he didn't have. Better to jump to conclusions and waste a bunch of won—a _bunch_ , given the vet clinic's upscale neighborhood—than to risk Snow's safety.

Still, shame nipped at him—shame he had worried his brother, shame he was so stupid, shame he was here in his _Digimon_ shirt. Shame for putting Snow through this.

Dongyoung sighed and pushed his half-eaten bag of shrimp chips into his pocket. So he hadn't made the worst mistake possible as a dogsitter, but he'd still fucked up. And he was still out of place, chasing ridiculous old dreams and taking up space in Gong Myung's apartment he wasn't entitled to and hadn't earned.

The door opened, and Taeyong had Snow slung over his shoulder, a gloved hand supporting her small haunches. "I asked the vet if you could see her before I put her in the carrier," he explained. "So you could see she's okay."

Dongyoung swallowed hard, surprisingly moved by the gesture. In his head, Snow was scared and whimpering in her carrier as he passed her off to the vet. Seeing her yawn on Taeyong's shoulder was a massive relief. "Thanks," he said, and reached his hand out hesitantly.

Taeyong smiled and brought her closer, making a soothing noise when she yipped at the connection of Dongyoung's fingertips. Carefully, he moved her until she was held on his arm and against his chest. "We gave her a subcutaneous injection of fluids to replenish her," he explained, petting her as she started squirming with excitement the minute she realized Dongyoung was there. "There's a little bump here"—he pointed his purple-gloved finger at a bulge behind her head Dongyoung hadn't noticed—"but it'll go down as it absorbs. She's just fine, aren't you, baby?"

Dongyoung nodded and stroked her spine, then patted her hip the way he saw Gong Myung do. "She's really fine?" he asked, weak in his feelings and the late hour, as if he couldn't see the puppy trying to chew on Taeyong's sleeve and wagging her tail.

"She was such a good girl," Taeyong said, slipping into a softer, almost reverent, voice and letting her slobber on his scrubs. "She barely made noise the whole time." He adjusted his hold when she tried to slither down his arm like a snake, wriggly like when Dongyoung tried to dry her off after a bath. Taeyong just laughed, though, and gave her a gentle pat on the back.

Dongyoung could admit he'd judged him too harshly; even if Taeyong was bad with humans, he was great with dogs, murmuring nonsense at Snow so she settled down. Dongyoung had a little bit of a rapport with her, hard-won, as he was a bad stand-in for his brother and hated getting off the couch to retrieve toys during perpetual games of fetch, but Taeyong was effortless with her. Usually Dongyoung had to distract Snow with a treat to get her to stop chewing on something or crying about it being taken away, but Taeyong pulled his sleeve from her mouth and she didn't make a noise of protest.

He realized he was smiling when Taeyong glanced up and met his eyes. Taeyong looked almost startled, his already large eyes flaring wider, and then he smiled back too. It made him look much friendlier.

"Thank you," Dongyoung said, and Taeyong ducked his head and nodded, looking embarrassed about it.

"Um, I'll go put her in the carrier and make sure there's nothing else and you can go home. Come on, Snow, let's go see the doctor again, okay?" he said, slipping back into his softer tone.

"Sure."

As Taeyong walked out of the waiting room, Dongyoung caught him lifting his arm to press a kiss to the top of Snow's head, and the last of his worry for her slipped away. He let out a heavy breath, straightened his shoulders, and pulled up his taxi app so Snow wouldn't have to endure any more waiting than necessary.

They could go home, such as it was; Snow could sleep on Dongyoung's feet despite Gong Myung's insistence she not be allowed on beds, and Dongyoung could finally sleep in preparation for another long day of fruitless job hunting.

When Taeyong returned, he was waggling his fingers through the slats of Snow's carrier to distract her, making shushing noises. "I think she's excited to go home," he said, pulling a face of exaggerated sympathy as he passed the carrier over.

"Honestly, so am I." When Taeyong's hand fell away, Dongyoung lifted the carrier up to peer at Snow, wrestling with her fuzzy blanket. Her black eyes peered at him from the depths and then blinked, and she went back to her tiny growls and yips as she tried to fight the fabric. "Both of us need a nap." He lowered his arm, careful not to jostle Snow, and cleared his throat. "Ah, I wanted to thank you again for your help. I know my brother would thank you too if he were here."

"Oh!" Taeyong exclaimed, like a eureka. "Brothers. _That's_ what it is."

Dongyoung caught himself laughing at the nonsequitur; he didn't think he could have stopped it. "What?"

"Oh, just… Kim Dongyoung and Kim Donghyun… I just wondered." He'd realized his mistake the same as earlier, with the comment on the shirt, and was staring into the carrier like maybe Dongyoung wouldn't notice if they didn't make eye contact.

This time, Dongyoung could be magnanimous. "We're the same generation, so we were sentenced to having _Dong_ in our names."

"That's really cool. My parents didn't do anything traditional; my sister… Um! Anyway," Taeyong said, shaking his head so sharp and fast it looked like it hurt, "do you need me to call you a cab?"

"I've got it, thanks."

"Well, thank you so much for coming to us to make sure Snow's okay. We'll text your brother about her next appointment, but you have the card too, don't forget."

"Great." Dongyoung glanced at the app and saw his taxi was a block away. He wasn't excited to make his dash from the entrance to the street in the rain, and the same one from the taxi to Gong Myung's apartment building, but it barely registered on the list of things he'd endured tonight. "Thank you again."

"Um, and thank you for having the good taste to wear a _Digimon_ shirt and to not, um, yell at me for pointing it out."

Dongyoung's head came up, and Taeyong was offering him a sheepish smile, his eyes twinkling. He managed eye contact this time—to the point where Dongyoung first found himself impressed, then wondering if this was Taeyong flirting with him. Surely he wouldn't? Why would he flirt with Dongyoung, who'd been foolish and brusque at best and a prickly, bedraggled idiot at worst?

Not to mention that Seoul was becoming safer, especially in pockets like this one in Cheongdam, but Dongyoung had a hard time picturing _anyone_ unheterosexually flirting outside the bounds of a bar or an app.

But he was curious, and maybe he _was_ a sucker for a pretty face, because he found himself softening his expression to the same one he used to put on in bars and slyly saying back, "I like your Spongebob lanyard, so we're even, yes?"

"Yes! Yeah." The way Taeyong was blushing and rocking back on his heels was more evidence. Dongyoung couldn’t help but feel wonder bloom; it suited the feeling of unreality that had been dogging him since his moment of realization—mistaken as it was—in the living room. "Great. Have a good night, Mr. Kim!"

He walked Dongyoung to the door, even, and Dongyoung let himself give one last glance over his shoulder as he stood outside, at this awkward, pretty vet tech. Behind the glass doors, Taeyong lifted a gloved hand to wave, looking unsure of himself, but Dongyoung had his phone and Snow to worry about protecting from the wind and rain.

He made it to the taxi without getting _too_ wet, and the driver only looked slightly disturbed by his cargo but made no comment. Dongyoung secured his seatbelt, checked on Snow, wiped rain droplets from his phone screen, and snapped a blurry and grainy shot of Snow looking out at him solemnly, too unsettled by the motion of the taxi to play.

Dongyoung sent the picture to his brother, along with another apology.

 **Dongyoung** : She's fine and we're on the way home.  
**Dongyoung:** I'm sorry for all of this. Sorry for worrying you. I hope your filming didn't suffer too much.  
**Gong Myung:** Stop beating yourself up and go get some sleep  
**Gong Myung:** You did the right thing, and I would have made the same choice  
**Dongyoung:** I'm sure eventually I'll believe that, but thank you.

As Dongyoung let himself into the lobby of Gong Myung's opulently modern building—a sight he still wasn't used to after three weeks, though the front-desk staff gave him a smile and bow on his way past them—he felt his phone buzz with another notification.

It was only as he collapsed onto the couch, rain-wet and peeling off his cardigan, letting Snow romp around the living room and sniff things to her heart's content only _after_ finding the chocolate bar whole and wrapped under the couch, that he read it.

 **Gong Myung:** For the record, if you keep letting her sleep with you, she'll be impossible to train out of the habit  
**Dongyoung:** That sounds like a you problem.

He sent another picture, this one of Snow passed out on the carpet in the middle of chewing on her favorite toy. His brother sent a sticker but didn't respond otherwise, probably whisked away for another setup, now that the dog emergency was well behind him.

Dongyoung was careful as he scooped Snow up and took her to bed, and he only wondered at Lee Taeyong's strangeness once he was clean and dry and on the edge of sleep. Was he on a night shift to minimize his interaction with people? Was he really into men, or did Dongyoung let those giant eyes and that mouth get to him? Was Dongyoung so lonely and adrift that he'd lie awake staring at the ceiling wondering about a random veterinary technician?

A mystery to solve tomorrow, he decided, rolling onto his side and pulling the covers over his head.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I miss a tag you'd like included.
> 
> You miiiiight have noticed I made the creative choice to eschew as much Hangul and romanized Korean as possible because this fic is already, in spirit, Translated (since it's, you know, written in English). I don't want to break immersion, but I also know romanization is a point of contention, so I'm just. I'm doing my best, y'all! Please don't hesitate to tell me if I get something wrong, because the last thing I want to do is be disrespectful.
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter [@sssneakiest](https://twitter.com/sssneakiest) for updates on me wrestling this fic into submission and also generally my yelling about NCT.


End file.
